


repatriation

by bonesbian (sharonsnatalia)



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/F, Harrow the Ninth Spoilers, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharonsnatalia/pseuds/bonesbian
Summary: But all you thought as you as you saw her, her skull-paint smudged and her lips barely curled into a smile, was that you were finally home.-Gideon and Harrow reunite in the nebulous future.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 96





	repatriation

**Author's Note:**

> i am lesbian and wanted yearning. that is what this is. 
> 
> no i don't have any idea how they got here and i don't care about that tbh.

You have felt her lips on your skin, her teeth nearly breaking it. She never learned to be kind, not in any way that mattered. And you never learned the comfort of a gentle touch, never learned to be gentle yourself. When the two of you clashed, it was always a spectacle, always a thing that the Seventh might base a prayer off of one day. It was a bloody thing, a matter of scraps and bruises and scratches and bite marks. It was a thing of pain and power. It was a thing of fear and grief and guilt and hatred and love given form in two orphans, in two children and later women more beast and bone than human. 

She spoke now—her face emotional in a way only a member of the Ninth could ever hope to recognize, let alone decipher. Not that you understood the words she said. No, your eyes remained on her lips, on the flashes on teeth as she spoke, moved to the bright yellow of her eyes, your eyes in her face, moved to the awkward shoulder length hair she now sported.

The two of you were not alone. An audience of cavs and necromancers and the devout of the Ninth watched and waited. What they expected you knew not. Was it a cacophonous clash of your bodies, a fight bordering on worship? Was it a quiet embrace, the inevitable admission?

Her eyes narrowed. "Nav, are you even listening to me?"

"Fuck no."

It was then, that moment while you grinned and she looked indignant, when you crashed into her, when you threw yourself at her and landed in the dirt atop her. There was a brief press of her lips to your neck, a brief scrap of teeth against before chaos broke out.

Arms tight around her and dirt smudged on black robes, the two of you scraped and bruised and scratched and bit, the perfect image of your shared childhood. Eventually you were hauled apart, held away apart, as Crux’s reprimands rang out loud.

“How dare you disrespect the Reverend Daughter.”

. If you closed your eyes, focused on the pain and the sound of Crux and the sound of the Reverend Daughter breathing heavy, you could almost imagine the walls of the Ninth surrounded you once more, that you two had never left.

And you met her eyes, a grin once more spreading across your face. All you thought as you stared at her, her skull-paint smudged and adorned with a little crimson and a barely there smile on her lips, was that you were finally, finally home.

* * *

It was later when the two of you really spoke after the eyes looked away and the whispers died down, after you pulled her away to the little room you called your own.

Her hand had not left your wrist, grasp tight enough to bruise— a reminder that you were alive, that you had come back to her.

“I don’t know how I made it without you by my side.” It was a quiet admission, barely above a whisper, and not what you expected to ever hear from her. 

“Can I-”  _ hold you? _ You meant to say, but the words died in your throat. 

Instead you simply opened up your arms, and she wrapped herself around you. She pressed her lips to your neck, feeling the steady rhythm of your breathing heart.

* * *

You shared a cot that night, you wrapped around her, her lips pressed to your wrist and teeth occasionally scraping against your pulse. Your only thought was that you were finally home. 

**Author's Note:**

> might fuck around and make this longer someday. idk


End file.
